


Six

by ALC



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALC/pseuds/ALC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor notices a few small scars and finds out how Rose got them.<br/>Written for last week's Time Petals Prompts- scars<br/>*Trigger Warning- Domestic Violence*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six

It was the first time he’d seen it. She was a muddy mess and had stripped off her hoodie, leaving behind a black vest smeared with drying mud around the neckline.

It was small- nothing but a little mark, really…yet it caught his attention. 

She caught him looking and pulled her shirt over the mark to cover it, averting her eyes. 

“Rose,” he asked, “what is that?” 

She smiled in reply, then cleared her throat and looked away.

The Doctor pulled his glasses out of a pocket and put them on, stepping closer. His thumb brushed off a bit of mud while gently tracing over the small imperfection. The first discovery led to another, then another; he found a total of six small scars, each a round, raised mark.

His brown eyes searched into hers, questioning. “I’ve never noticed these before. What happened?”

She swallowed thickly, kicking the toe of her trainer on the ground. “’S nothin’, really. Should really get a shower, Doctor. ‘M really muddy.” 

He nodded, acquiescing. “Go on then.” 

~OOoOO~

In the shower she washed away the gritty grime and mud, languishing in the spray. The water was blissfully warm, and she sighed, content. Finally finished, she stepped out of the bath wrapped in a terry robe. She pulled a set of pyjamas out of a drawer and quickly dressed, slipping into her fuzzy slippers. 

She wandered into the library and plopped down onto a couch next to the Doctor. Walnut bookshelves, ancient and massive, lined the walls and the air was filled with the dry, dusty scent of paper, ink, and leather. She leaned against his brown suit coat and tried to stifle a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked, softly. 

She smiled back. “Maybe a little. It has been a long day.” 

He nodded. “Before you go to bed I’d like to have another look at those scars.”

She crinkled her eyebrows. “What?”

His face was serious. “The ones I saw earlier- thought they might be from a childhood illness- chickenpox, perhaps…but I don’t think they are. Are they, Rose?”

She pursed her lips and felt a shiver run up her back. “’S not something I want to talk about.” She paused a moment, then got up from the couch. “Good night, Doctor.” 

He stood up. “What happened?”

“I _said_ it's not something I like talkin’ about.” 

His face was set in a grim line. “It was him, wasn’t it?” 

She bit her lip, looking at the floor. “Yeah.”

The Doctor let out a soft sigh. “You told me he didn’t hurt you, Rose.” 

She shook her head, blinking back tears. “No, Doctor,” her voice cracking, “I told you he never hit me. And he didn’t.” She sniffled. 

He strode over to her, wrapping her in a gentle hug. “Hey, hey…it’s okay. Come here.”

She took a shuddering breath and calmed herself. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“What happened?” he asked, his finger brushing over one of the small raised dots.

“’S stupid.”

“He hurt you,” the Doctor said softly. “How could anyone hurt you?” 

She gave a harsh dry laugh. “Doctor…”

Running his fingers through his hair, he gave her a gentle squeeze and guided her back to the couch, sitting down beside her. “Tell me, Rose.”

She let out a breath and shrugged, leaning forward. “’S nothing much. He used to play in a band down at the pub with a few of his mates. One night he came back to the flat dead drunk. Wasn’t out of the ordinary or anything, but he was angry. He was smoking and cursin’ because one of his mates had left the band that night, or somethin’ like that. I tried talkin’ to him, but Jimmy didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to get me into bed.” She licked her lips. “But I didn’t want to, because he was scarin’ me. I told him no and he nodded, and looked at me funny.” She paused, looking into the Doctor’s eyes. “Then he-” she broke off for a minute, fidgeting. “He put his cigarette out on me…cept it didn’t go out. So he did it again. And again…”

“Oh Rose,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. 

“Six times,” she said softly. “Six times it took before it finally went out.” She swallowed resolutely. “I moved out after that. S’pose I’m ashamed he did it to me- that I didn’t do anything to stop it. ‘S just it happened so fast and I was so shocked and…” she trailed off. 

The Doctor squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead. “Rose, I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry, sweetheart.” He held her close and she nuzzled against him, humming lightly.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before he hesitantly cleared his throat. She sat up, a question in her eyes, as he laced his fingers through hers.

His eyes flicked over to the tiny scars pebbled on her arm and shoulder blade, gently tracing around the marks. “The dermal regenerator can mend these, you know. It wouldn’t hurt at all, and you wouldn’t have to carry around the reminders of his cruelty.” 

She considered his offer, her fingers ghosting over the small marks.

His hand squeezed hers again, choosing his words carefully. “But it’s your decision Rose. I don’t want to pressure you.” 

She bit her lip, then smiled. “Yeah…sounds good,” she said, nodding.

His smile widened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well then, Miss Tyler,” he said softly, pulling her up from the couch, “let’s get you taken care of.” He led her to the door and gregariously held out an arm, causing her to giggle. He raised his eyebrows, pointing her towards the med-bay. “Allons-y!”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you so so much for reading. There are so many fantastic authors out there and I am truly grateful that you gave my little story a chance.


End file.
